“The baby is breech, and Rose is dehydrated from the flu. Everyone was rushing to the hospital when we left.”
Worry for her sister made her crawl out of Truman’s lap, her anxiety spiking. “We need to go.” Babies are breech all the time.
But this is my sister.
“Your dad nearly went to the hospital instead of coming with us.”
“My dad? He’s here?” Surprise made Mercy search the area.
“He’s not here, but he brought us his horses and provided directions to get here.” He met Mercy’s eyes. “He had to choose between going to Rose or helping you. He chose you.”
He chose me.
Her head swam, and she felt as if she were peering over the cliff again.
THIRTY-EIGHT
The sky was just starting to darken as the group headed home. Knowing Rose was in labor made Mercy want to gallop her horse back.
But she stayed with the group.
They agreed to ride back to Bree’s farm. Her barn had room for the two extra horses until Karl could come get them. Truman drove the ATV with Trevor cuffed behind him, and Samuel led Truman’s horse. Trevor mouthed off several times. Truman finally threatened to tie him over a horse on his stomach, and he stayed quiet after that.
Mercy checked for cell phone reception two dozen times.
They were nearly to Bree’s when she finally reached Pearl on the phone. She pelted her sister with a dozen questions.
“Slow down,” Pearl ordered. “I can’t answer everything at once. Kaylie’s resting comfortably. The doctors are breathing a little easier because it’s been twenty-four hours without a sign of infection.”
Relief swamped Mercy.
“She’s complaining that she can’t see Rose even though they’re in the same hospital,” said Pearl.
Mercy couldn’t help but smile. That’s my girl. A good sign that Kaylie was on the mend.
“And Rose?” Mercy held her breath.
“She had a C-section. They couldn’t turn the baby. The doctor preferred the surgery instead of attempting a vaginal birth, and Rose didn’t have strength left for any kind of birth. The flu was really hard on her.”
“Is the baby at risk from the flu?” Mercy whispered.
“They talked about separating Rose from the baby—”
“Oh no,” Mercy gasped.
“But Rose’s fever has been under control, and her lungs are clear. They don’t believe she’s contagious any longer, just wiped out and dehydrated, so they’ll let the baby be with her if she wears a mask and washes her hands nonstop.”
“When can we see her?”
“She’s in recovery right now. Nick said she’ll be in her room in about an hour.”
“What did she have?” Mercy blurted.
Pearl laughed. “I wondered when you would ask. She had a boy, but I’ll let Rose tell you the name when you see her.”
“Ohhh. Darn you! That’s going to drive me nuts.”
“Dad said Truman was worried you were in some sort of danger,” Pearl stated with a question in her tone.
“It’s all good,” Mercy said, too tired to tell the story. “We’ll be at the hospital in a few hours. Tell Rose we’re coming.”
“She asked about you several times while she was in labor.”
Guilt punched her in the chest. “I promised her I’d be there,” Mercy said. “I told her she could count on me if no one else was available, and I let her down.”
Pearl snorted. “Well, everyone was available except for you. I’d say you’re off the hook.”
“I wanted to be there,” she said softly.
“We’ve been sitting in a waiting room for hours. No one was allowed in the surgery but Nick. You haven’t missed anything.”
The words didn’t comfort her.
It was midnight when Mercy and Truman finally reached the hospital.
Truman sent a text to Nick, who replied that they were currently awake, and then met them at the nurses’ station to okay their visit. The tall man looked exhausted but ecstatic. Even though Nick had spent hours at the hospital and probably been sanitized from head to toe, Mercy smelled his usual scent of fresh-cut lumber. She and Truman followed him through security doors and down a hallway. Outside Rose’s door, he pointed at the hand sanitizer on the wall, and both cleaned their hands. The lights were low as they entered Rose’s room, and she turned her face toward Mercy.
A God-size punch hit Mercy in the chest at the sight of Rose sitting in bed holding her baby.
She’s beautiful.
The few lights illuminated the head of Rose’s bed, giving her a Madonna-like presence.
“Mercy?” she asked, her voice muffled behind her mask.
“Yes.” Mercy was at her side in a split second, all eyes for the baby. The round head was so tiny, the nose and lips perfectly shaped, the closed eyelids nearly translucent. “Oh, Rose. He’s lovely.”
“I can’t stop touching his hair.” Rose softly stroked the dark fluff. “I can’t believe he’s really here.”
“Pearl wouldn’t tell me his name.”
“Henry Levi.”
Tears burned in Mercy’s eyes. Her brothers. One who had died at birth and another who had died the previous year. She couldn’t speak.
“Would you like to hold him?” Rose lifted him away from her chest.
Mercy took the tiny bundle, amazed at how light he was. Dulce weighed more. “Is . . . is he healthy?”
“Yes. Even though he’s a month early the doctor is pleased with his development. We shouldn’t be in the hospital any longer than normal.”
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, Rose. I know I promised—”
Rose waved a hand, dismissing her words. “Besides Nick, five different people offered to take me to the hospital. Everything was fine. Dad said you were on a job without cell service.”
That is true. “Yes.”
“He sounded worried.” Her tone was inquisitive.
Dad . . . worried about me? “Everything turned out fine. I’ll tell you the whole story tomorrow.” Mercy changed the subject. “How are you feeling?”
“Very floaty. I don’t know if it’s the medication or Henry.” Her voice took on a dreamy tone. “Mercy . . . It’s like . . . a brand-new piece of my heart suddenly woke up. A huge section brimming with energy and soul-deep love. I can’t explain it.”
Truman came beside her. “Nice job, Rose.” He gently touched a tiny clenched fist and looked at Mercy with a passionate fierceness she felt to her bones. The tiny boy had stirred something inside him.
He held her gaze for a long moment, keeping her speechless, before turning to Nick.
“Congratulations, Nick.” Truman shook the tall man’s hand and slapped him on the shoulder.
“The wedding is next,” Nick stated.
Rose laughed. “He wanted to get married tomorrow, but Mom and I insist on a real wedding.”
Nick looked abashed. “I’m willing to wait two months. Deborah claims she and Pearl can pull a wedding together by then.”
“I’ll help,” Mercy said, her gaze back on the tiny human in her arms.
“How about you two?” Nick asked. “You pick a date yet?”
She exchanged a glance with Truman. They’d purposefully not announced a date, wanting to know Rose and Nick’s plans first. “We decided on December.”
“Definitely,” added Truman, meeting her eyes.
He’s still looking at me as if I’m his dinner . . . or dessert.